Look What the Cat Dragged In
by AthenaScarlet
Summary: There are only a couple things Killian Jones knows about his neighbor, Emma Swan. She's a bail bonds person and she's attractive. Also, she apparently has a cat. And he apparently is now her cat sitter.
1. Chapter 1

_Loosely based on a prompt by riphaerry for .com: "I asked you to babysit one time and now my child keeps asking when you will spend time with them again"_

Unlike most people in the city, Killian Jones actually did interact with the neighbors in his Manhattan building on occasion. He would help the older woman on the first floor bring in her groceries or give a polite hello to the guy who lived upstairs.

And then there was his next door neighbor. Emma Swan. He actually knew her name, which helped when their mailman mixed up the mail for apartments 2C and 2D. Every once in awhile, he would get a knock on his door or would have to knock on hers to pass over the credit card offers and coupons. He wasn't sure if she actually used them or not, he just thought it was a nice neighborly thing to do.

Of course, there was also the issue that Emma was gorgeous. Sure, he would bring home the occasional fling or have a relationship that would last a few months. But none of those women could compare to Emma. And if he was being honest with himself, he would feel a bit of guilt whenever Emma caught him saying goodbye to a woman at his doorstep. Emma was a tough lass - he knew she was a bail bonds woman - and, he could admit, a bit intimidating. But she also had this blonde hair that he wanted to run his fingers through and skin that looked so soft he could only imagine the silkiness in the palm of his hand.

That's why he would never have the balls to actually ask her out. She wasn't going to be an easy conquest, and she probably wouldn't have the patience for him acting like a fool in front of her. And of course, she would be the only woman who could make him act like a fool.

Oh, and the fact that she was his neighbor. Imagine dating someone and then breaking up with someone, but they still lived next door to you. Worst idea ever.

Which is why he was lucky that he didn't have a chance to think about the knock on his door that woke him up on a Sunday morning. Barely aware of the world, he wandered to the front door, his hair probably a disastrous mess, and opened it without thinking to check who was on the other side.

It was Emma.

And judging by her momentary look of shock, he just realized that he had answered the door wearing only the pair of sweatpants he slept in and no shirt.

And it was Emma.

He tried to keep himself calm, hoping he was acting natural while also trying to calm his racing heart down.

"Um…" Emma cleared her throat and finally looked up to make eye contact with him. Her cheeks were a bit red. "Hi. Hey. I hope I'm not bothering you."

"No bother," he replied quickly.

"Right. Good," she said, nodding her head to her own response. "So real quick: are you allergic to cats?"

"Cats?" he asked her. "That's a strange question for whatever time it is on a Sunday morning."

She looked down at her watch. "It's 7:30. Anyway, I have to go catch a guy upstate, and I'll probably be gone for three days, and the automatic cat feeder I usually use when I'm away is broken. So you can you take care of my cat?"

The whole spew of words had come out so quickly that Killian was trying having trouble understanding exactly what she had just said. "Wait, you have a cat?"

"Yea."

His eyes narrowed. "I've lived next door to you for almost a year and never realized you had a cat?"

She just shrugged. "She's a quiet pet, not a dog or a parakeet or something. Anyway, she needs to be fed twice a day, and I've got to leave now so I was hoping you could help me out."

Killian shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "Sure. Yea, I can help you out," he replied. "I guess I just need some instructions and a spare key or something."

Emma held her arm up and for the first time, Killian noticed she hadn't come over empty handed. "Instructions. Pretty self explanatory. Spare set of keys."

He held his hand out, and she dropped both of them in his palm. "My number is on there in case you need anything else, but she's a pretty easy cat to take care of."

Killian started to look over the directions. "What does this princess thing mean?"

"That's her name."

"You have a cat named Princess?" he asked.

"Yea," she replied, acting as if it was the most logical thing in the world for a tough-as-nails bonds woman to have a cat with such a name. "Oh, and could you clean out her litter box if I'm gone more than three days? It's just one of those robotic ones, but after awhile, you need to clean it all out."

Killian just nodded in understanding as Emma seemed to relax a bit in front of him. "Thank you. I really do appreciate it."

"No problem, Emma." He looked down at the paper and keys in his hand. "Oh wait, which key is which?"

She grabbed the pair of keys in his hand, her fingers brushing over his palm in a way that set his whole body on fire. It didn't help that the gorgeous blonde hair he so admired was teasing his fingertips with her so close.

"I put a black X on the one for the deadbolt."

She held up the keys in front of him, and he definitely noticed the way her eyes left the keys to take a glance at his bare chest. He wasn't going to call her out on it. Just something he would remember for another time.

"Black X. I got it."

He grabbed the keys from her hand and noticed how she quickly looked back up to his face.

"Right," she replied. "So I'm leaving. Should be back by Tuesday night. And thank you. I really do appreciate this."

"No problem, Emma," he said with a smile. "Go get your bad guy."

She nodded and walked away as he closed the door. Now that she was gone, he had a good chance to actually look at the instructions she had given him. No nonsense lined white paper, but there was something feminine and sweet about her handwriting.

He figured it was just another contradiction from the tough woman next door with the cat named Princess.


	2. Chapter 2

By Wednesday, Killian had a routine. Wake up and get dressed for work. Feed Princess. Text Emma. Go to work. Come home. Change into sweatpants and a t-shirt. Feed Princess. Text Emma.

And yes, Princess was the most amazing black cat he had ever seen. He was not expecting that the first time he went over to Emma's place. But then he wasn't expecting alot of things the first time he went over to Emma's place.

First, Princess is the name you give to a white fluffy cat who turns its nose up to everyone. Instead, Princess was actually jet black and totally friendly. The first time Killian came into the apartment, she gave him a good look, watched him get her food - as per Emma's instructions - and then curled her way around his leg, purring softly before she actually started to eat. If Killian lingered a little longer than he should, it was just because he was trying to make sure the cat wasn't lonely. At least that's what he was telling himself.

The second thing he didn't expect was Emma's apartment. It was modern and sleek, but there were still these feminine touches here or there that made him think Emma's tough exterior held a soft center. Scented candles, oversized pillows on her couch, framed pictures of her friends on shelves filled with crime novels. Even her bathroom smelled like vanilla and sugar cookies. To be clear, he was only in there to clean out the cat's litter box. The smell of a warm woman was just something he coincidentally noticed.

Emma sent him a text on Tuesday saying she would be out of town longer than she expected but wasn't sure how long. Killian told it was no problem.

He dropped off his bag and shed his suit and the tie that had been strangling him all day, replacing them with a pair of black sweatpants and a grey athletic shirt. It clung to him a little tighter than most of his shirts, but he actually liked that. Then he pulled a beer out of his fridge, shoved his phone in his pocket, and grabbed the keys from the hook by his front door.

Padding down the hall in his sneakers, he unlocked the door to Emma's apartment - jiggling the key in the lock a little longer than usual - and turned on the lights.

"Freeze!"

Killian's hands instinctively went up in the air, the keys falling and his beer bottle shattering on the floor. The woman standing in front of him, baseball bat in hat, immediately went from dangerous to having one of the most apologetic looks he had ever seen.

"I'm so sorry," Emma said as she lowered the bat. "Oh, Killian. Your beer."

He just looked at her dumbfounded, hands still in the air. "My what?"

She immediately walked over to a coat closet where she put down the bat and pulled out a broom and dust pan. "Your beer," she explained as she walked back over. "I'm sorry. I totally forgot to tell you that I was home so you didn't have to come over."

He finally started to lower his hands as he watched her walk back to him. "Oh, right, yea. It's OK," he said, trying to calm himself down and act like it was no big deal that this gorgeous woman had just threatened him. And it was no big deal that there was a woman on her knees in front of him. Although to be fair, he was sort of kind of breaking into her apartment. With her key. To play with her cat.

"I just got back an hour ago, and crashed on the couch," she said. "I was so exhausted I didn't even think to text you."

"Really, it's OK," he said as he pushed his way into her apartment. "Let me just grab a towel to clean that up."

He headed into her kitchen and grabbed a few hand towels from the counter, returning to get on his knees next to her and soak up the beer. And yes, he totally realized that their bodies were so close together in the tiny doorway to her apartment. The next-door neighbor who was currently so close to him that she was stroking his leg with her foot. Maybe he wasn't so presumptuous to think she was interested in him. He turned to see what she was doing - and saw Princess.

Nevermind. It wasn't Emma, it was the cat.

Killian gave an exasperated sigh. "You can't have beer, love," he said as he stood and scooped the cat up in his arms. "How many times have I told you that it's only milk for you?"

"Wait, you gave her milk?"

He turned to see Emma staring up at him, a surprised look in her face.

"I hope that was OK," he said sheepishly.

"Yea, no, it was totally fine." She stood with the broken glass in her dust pan. "I usually only give that to her as a treat. It's no wonder she likes you so much."

"So much?" Killian asked as he followed Emma into the kitchen.

She threw out the glass and turned to wash her hands. "I had to get the automatic feeder because she went through four different cat sitters who all turned me down after her _behavior_ towards them."

Princess only snuggled closer to him, rubbing herself against his chin and purring sweetly. "I guess I have a way with the ladies," he said jokingly.

Emma's eyes had a flash of something - jealousy? Desire? He wasn't really sure because she quickly masked it with an awkward smile.

"Well, you don't have to worry about her anymore since I'm home."

"Oh, it wasn't a worry," he said. "I was more than happy to help out."

He reached up to scratch behind the cat's ears, knowing how much Princess loved it. He was rewarded with more purring that vibrated against his chest.

"Ok, well, I think that the crisis is averted," Emma said quickly as she walked over and stood in front of Killian. "Can I have my cat back now?"

He gave her a mocking sad face. "But Princess is so warm and friendly."

She gave him a skeptical look. "I hardly think anyone would mistake her for being friendly."

Killian just shrugged and smiled down at the cat. "Don't worry, love. I think you're a friendly cat."

Emma shook her head, reaching for Princess, who gave an unwelcomed "meow" as she was pulled away from Killian's warm chest. He calmed her by reaching out and petting her head again, his hand accidentally grazing Emma's breast. He tried to simply pretend it didn't happen, hoping he could pass it off as an innocent move.

"Alright then," he said, his voice embarrassingly breaking a bit. "I'm headed out since you seem to be in good hands again, Princess."

"Thanks, Killian." She looked up and smiled at him - something he rarely saw from her. "I really do appreciate your help."

"Anytime, love."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and started to head for the door when he saw her keys still on the floor where he had dropped them. "Oh, you probably want these back."

"That's OK, you keep them. You know, in case I need you to cat sit again."

There was so much Killian wanted to say, so many lines he wished he could've used in that moment. But this wasn't a bar and this wasn't just some woman. This was Emma.

"Of course, love," he replied simply. "I'm more than happy to help any time."

And with that, he headed home with two thoughts in his mind. First, Princess liked him better than any of her other cat sitters. And second, Emma's breast was soft against the knuckles of his hand.


	3. Chapter 3

Killian slowly woke up Saturday morning with the sun filtering through his curtains and someone's breath on the back of his neck.

 _Bloody hell_ , he thought.

Sometime around Thursday night while he was sitting alone in his apartment without Emma or Princess nearby, he realized he hadn't been his usual prolific self in awhile. In fact, he realized that after Emma caught him saying goodbye to a lady friend one morning two months ago, he hadn't brought a woman home at all. Could his neighbor suddenly have had that much of an effect on him? And if so, why was there a woman in his bed now?

But something wasn't making sense. He went out for drinks with his friends last night but didn't bring anyone home. Or maybe he did? Shit. How could he not remember that?

Killian figured the best way to get out of this was to do his usual move: Moan. Not some weird sexual thing. It was just a contented sounding moan that would make the woman think he was happy while being loud enough to wake her up so he could get rid of her as soon as possible.

He stretched out his limbs, took a deep breath, and rolled over. "Mmmmm. Morning."

Staring back at him was a furry woman with yellow eyes.

"Bloody hell!" he screamed, jumping out of his bed so quick he almost landed on his ass.

"Meow."

Killian put his hands on his hips and stared at the intruder in his bed. "Do I dare even ask how you got in here, Princess?"

"Meow."

"Really?" he asked sarcastically. "And why did you think it was a good idea to curl up in my bed?"

Then he realized he was having a conversation with a cat. In his boxer briefs. At seven o'clock in the morning.

Princess walked across his bed and hopped down, purring as she rubbed up against his bare leg. He could only sigh in response and grab a pair of sweatpants off his floor.

"Let me put some pants on and make coffee, and then we'll get you home."

He scooped up the black ball of fur from his floor and padded into the kitchen with his phone. He started the coffee pot first - priorities - and got a bowl from his cupboard for some milk.

"There you go, love," he said as he set the bowl down on the floor. "Now, let's tell your mother where you are."

Killian picked up his phone, ready to text Emma about her cat, and froze. He looked up and scanned his apartment. Anything embarrassing or inappropriate? Was the place clean? Did he leave some underwear lying around? Assured that his apartment wasn't too bad, he grabbed his phone and started typing.

 _Princess is here. Don't know how. I have coffee brewing if you want to come get her._

He saw three dots appear on his screen as Emma started typing a reply - and then they disappeared. Killian frowned, waiting for them to come back, hoping they would come back, but there was nothing.

The coffee maker beeped and he stepped over the black cat, still lapping up her milk, to grab a mug from the cupboard. With warm coffee in his hand, he sat down on the floor next to Princess and started petting her.

"I tried, love," he said as he stroked her fur. "Apparently your mother isn't too keen on me, is she?"

He gave the cat a sad smile and took a sip of his coffee, burning his lip as he was startled by the knock at the door. He walked over and opened the door to find Emma on the other side with a travel mug in her hand.

"Do you ever wear a shirt?"

He looked down to see that in fact once again he had answered the door in nothing but sweatpants. "Women usually don't complain," he said with a cheesy grin on his face.

"What about cats?"

"They're big fans," he said, stepping aside to let her in. "Let me go get a shirt and you can get your Princess. She's in the kitchen."

Killian closed the door behind her and led her to Princess' spot on the floor before heading into his bedroom. He grabbed a black Henley off the floor and sniffed it to make sure it still smelled clean. Satisfied, he pulled it over his head and took a quick check in the mirror to straighten out his hair before deciding it was sexier to leave it a bit messy. He was about to head back out when he stopped. He should've felt bad about listening to Emma talk to her cat in the other room, but it was just too endearing for him to interrupt.

"How did you get over here, you crazy cat?" she asked. "Did you find some sneaky way over just to get some milk? I can't blame you. That looks pretty good."

"Only the best for a princess," Killian replied as he walked in and noticed the hole he left in his wall. "And I think I now know how she got in."

Emma stood up with a look of skepticism on her face. "Alright, Sherlock. What you got?"

He pointed to a spot by his television. "The heating vent," he explained. "There was some weird smell coming from it last night so I took it off to see if there was something in there."

"Oh, that was my fault."

He looked back at her, his eyebrow raised in surprise.

"I painted my bathroom a new color last night and took the vent off the wall so I wouldn't get paint on it."

"And so you decided to invite yourself over, love?" he said, looking down at the cat.

Princess raised her head, gave him an affirming "meow" and went back to her milk. Emma let out the most honest laugh he had ever heard from her, prompting him to stare at her before smiling. He couldn't remember the last time a woman laughed like that around him, and the feeling it gave him was one he really couldn't explain. He just knew he wished he could hold on to her.

But then she caught her breath and returned the smile he was still giving her. "You have definitely become one of her favorite people."

He gave her a tight smile. It was one thing to have a cat like you, but what about Emma? She seemed to be more comfortable around him after this whole cat sitting thing, and looking at her, she seemed to fit so well into his apartment, as if she belonged there. But something held him back. Maybe it was because it seemed like there was something holding her back. Perhaps she wasn't interested in him in the same way. Probably all for the best. After all, he reminded himself, they're neighbors.

Emma picked up her cat, pulling her close as she began to lick her owner's face. "Hey, Princess. You smell like milk." The cat meowed and ducked her head into the crook of Emma's arm. "Perhaps it's time for us to stop bothering Mr. Jones and go home."

"You're never a bother," he replied quickly.

Emma turned and gave him a warm smile. "Well, we should still get going. Oh!" She grabbed the travel mug that she had laid on his counter and handed it to him. "I know I'm overstepping a bit, especially since you had to entertain my cat, but your text said you had coffee."

He chuckled and took the mug from her. "I have coffee." He grabbed the pot and poured her a cup. "Do you need me to get you cream or sugar too while I'm at it?" he said sarcastically. "Maybe a scone or an omelette or something."

Killian turned to see Emma giving him a bittersweet look, which he couldn't really explain. "Emma?"

She gave him a smile, covering up whatever was behind her eyes so he wouldn't see it anymore. "Black is fine."

"Black cat, black coffee. You seem to be a witch or something."

Emma took the mug from his hand, her fingers lingering on his for just a moment before pulling it away from him. "I guess I just like being mysterious," she said quietly. "Thank you for the coffee."

He nodded. "My pleasure."

"Alright, Princess. Time to go and put that vent back on the wall so you don't break into Killian's apartment."

"Don't worry," he said as he opened the door for them. "You're welcome anytime."

"Thank you again, and I'm sorry about the early morning wake up."

"It was a nice way to wake up."

She gave him a quick nod and walked over to her apartment, quietly closing the door and leaving Killian to stare at the empty space in the hallway she had left behind.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a week since Emma had graced his apartment, but that morning was still so vivid in Killian's mind. Her smile, her laugh. The way that she just seemed to fit in his apartment like she belonged there.

He missed her.

How could a woman who had lived next door to him for a year suddenly have such an effect on his life? How could doing her a favor by cat sitting become such a monumental thing?

Killian rolled over in his bed, the other side very empty. No woman, which wasn't that big of a deal to him, and no Princess. He really liked having that stupid cat at his place.

Instead, it was a quiet Saturday morning with no interruptions. So he got up, grabbed some clothes from his floor - including a shirt - and decided to distract himself by cleaning up his place. Dirty dishes that had been lingering were finally cleaned. He sorted through the huge pile of papers on his desk. Even his bookshelf got purged with a pile being set aside to donate to the library.

By two o'clock, his projects were done and his mind went back to Emma. But instead of actually doing something about this crush on his neighbor, he decided to continue with his plan to avoid even thinking about it. He dropped himself on his couch and turned on the television, mindlessly scrolling through the stations without finding anything he actually wanted to watch.

And that's when he thought he heard something.

He muted the television, waiting to see if it was just his imagination. But nope. He heard a cat meowing and scratching at his front door.

Killian jumped off the couch, cursing himself for being so eager to see if the cat in the hallway was black and soft and friendly. But he still couldn't help himself from grabbing the door and throwing it up with more force than was probably needed.

Princess sauntered in as if she owned the place and started nipping at his bare feet.

"Well, well, well." Killian kneeled down next to the ball of black fluff and was rewarded with a warm nuzzle against the palm of his hand. He leaned forward, checking the hallway and finding it empty. "What are you doing here all alone, lass?"

Princess just purred and rubbed her head against his hand some more.

"Perhaps we should get you home, eh?"

He picked her up and padded in his bare feet over to Emma's door, knocking softly. There was no answer. So he tried a little harder - maybe she couldn't hear him the first time. But still, nothing.

"Well, where could your mother be?" he asked as he frowned at Emma's door.

Walking back to his apartment with the cat still in his arm, he slipped on a pair of shoes, pocketed his phone, and grabbed two sets of keys - his and Emma's. He closed the door behind him and walked back over to her place, slipping the key into her lock.

Then he remembered how she welcomed him the last time he did this. He slowly opened the door partway, barely sticking his head in. "Emma? It's Killian. Can I come in?"

A soft muffled, dejected voice came from the apartment. "Sure."

He opened the door wider to find Emma standing in her living room with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair was a complete disheveled mess and there were dark circles under her eyes. Used tissues littered the floor and there were two mugs on her coffee table.

"You OK, lass?"

"I'm sick," she said in a hoarse voice before coughing. "Why are you here?"

Killian held up the cat in his arms. "Your Princess was apparently trying to avoid the plague and decided to scratch at my door."

Emma's shoulders slumped and she dragged herself over to Killian, about to take the cat out of his arms before stopping herself. "I probably shouldn't touch you," she said with a sad smile.

"Probably not," he said, kneeling to put Princess down on the ground. He straightened up and looked at Emma again. She didn't seem to be doing well. "You sure you're OK?"

She just shrugged. "I have cold medicine and pizza. I'll be fine."

"Pizza?" he said skeptically.

"Yea. Delivery." Emma nodded towards the box on her kitchen table. "That's probably when Princess got out."

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. "You're so sick that you didn't even notice your cat escape?"

"You think I'm a bad cat owner now?" she asked defensively.

"No, I just…" He sighed and stared at her. "Promise me you won't eat that pizza yet."

"It's going to get cold."

"Just give me 10 minutes."

She looked at him skeptically. "Give you 10 minutes for what?"

"Trust me."

Emma stared at him for a bit longer before turning and walking back to the couch, her blanket trailing behind her. "If you're not here in 10 minutes, I'm eating my pizza."

"Fine," he said. "I'll be back."

"Sure you will," she muttered as she plopped herself on the couch with Princess curling up on her lap.

Killian stood there for a moment, staring at the sweet scene in front of him. Emma looked so helpless that all he wanted to do was make it better. Wrap her in his arms, kiss away her cold and make sure she felt warm and secure.

But he had to start with some food. He snapped out of his daydream, gave her a short goodbye, and headed back to his place to grab his wallet and jacket. Luckily, he knew the walk was quick and the deli would be fast.

Unfortunately, even he wasn't that fast. The 10-minute trip took almost 20. To be fair, it was his own indecisive fault. The deli around the corner was good but perhaps too good. His quick stop turned into an actual trip with four bags in his hand before he realized what he had done.

He went back as quick as he could, imagining he would walk into Emma's apartment to find a half-finished pizza pie and tomato sauce all over her fluffy blanket.

Instead, he found Emma exactly where he left her, the pizza still untouched on the table.

"You're late," she mumbled.

He set the bags down on her kitchen counter. "Yes, and I see so much has changed since I left."

She turned to scowl at him and her face softened as she saw the shopping bags. "Did you go to Eli's?" she asked.

"I did."

Emma slumped. "If I had known you were going there, I would've asked you to bring back some matzo ball soup."

Killian couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face as he pulled a container out of the bag. "You mean this matzo ball soup?" He put it on the counter and started opening her cupboards. "I asked for extra broth. Figured it would help with your sore throat."

He grabbed a bowl from the shelf and then started pulling open drawers until he found a spoon. Taking them both back to the counter, he started pouring some broth in the bowl and snagged a matzo ball for her as well. "I also got you some chicken soup for later and two different kinds of tea. There's some plain old black tea and some chamomile as well, which should help you sleep later."

Killian walked over slowly and gently put the soup down on the coffee table in front of her. "Oh, forgot!" He ran back to the counter, pulled open a box in another one of his shopping bags, and snagged a sleeve of crackers. "Saltines!" he announced as he triumphantly returned to her.

Emma and Princess both stared at him.

"Were the saltines too much?"

"No. I just..." Her voice trailed off as she reached up to take the crackers from him. "These are fine. Thank you," she said quietly.

Killian stood still, not sure exactly how to react to her. She didn't seem excited about what he brought her but wasn't trying to get him out of her apartment either.

Princess meowed from her perch on her owner, breaking Killian out of his thoughts. "Of course, I didn't forget you," he said in an exasperated tone. "Come on, lass."

The cat jumped and followed him into the kitchen, where he tried to distract himself from Emma. He was expecting her to at least show some emotion for the food, but she gave him nothing. He had to tell himself that it was no big deal. It was fine. Really. He didn't do it to get a reaction out of her. He did it simply because he was being nice. But there was a piece of him that was a tiny bit disappointed.

"Alright, love. Let's see what I have for you." He started rummaging around in the bags until his hand found what he was looking for. "Oh! I think I found your tuna."

He pulled out the small container of tuna and put it in the cat's food bowl, making her purr loudly and rub against his leg before chowing down.

"Are you spoiling my cat?" Emma asked.

"Maybe," he replied before going back to the bags. "There's also some challah bread in here and a can of tomato soup. And I'm putting some cheddar in your fridge if you want a grilled cheese sandwich later."

He could hear her sniffle from her spot in the living room. Digging into another bag, he got a box of Kleenex and some cough drops. "I figured you would need a refill of these."

Emma took them from Killian's hands, her eyes shining as she gave him a tight smile. "Thanks," she said quietly.

He simply nodded and walked back to the kitchen. The last bag there belonged to him, a treat he bought for himself. He wasn't sure how to read this whole situation and Emma was sick anyway. Perhaps it was time for him to go and leave her to her cold.

He was just about to start saying his goodbyes when she interrupted him. "Something smells like french fries."

"I got a corned beef sandwich and fries to take back to my place."

Emma finally grabbed the bowl of soup off of her coffee table without looking up at him. "I was going to start a Black Sails marathon if you wanted to stay for a little bit," she said. "I don't know if you've seen it before."

Killian looked down the styrofoam container in his hands. "I keep meaning to start it."

"You could stay here with your sandwich and watch with me."

His head snapped up as he stared at her blonde hair, still a disastrous but gorgeous mess. "I could do that. You know, if you wouldn't mind."

"I wouldn't mind." She grabbed the remote and sat up a little to make room for him on the couch.

Killian squeezed himself in the spot she had cleared for him as she started to scroll through the TV menu.

"You can have some of the blanket too if you want," she said without taking her eyes off the screen.

"That's kind, love, but I'd rather not catch the plague."

She gave him a teasing glare and he smiled at her. "That's fair, I guess," she grumbled.

Killian told himself that he wouldn't overstay his welcome. That he would only be here for an hour, maybe two. But four episodes later, the sky outside was dark, Emma's soup was long finished, and his empty styrofoam container had been abandoned on the floor.

"Perhaps I should start heading out," he finally said as the credits scrolled on the latest episode.

"Big date?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No. You?"

She rolled his eyes at him. "Do I look like I'm prepared to go out?"

"No," he said with a chuckle. "I just figured you would have a boyfriend or something coming over to bring you dinner, and he probably would wonder what your dashing neighbor is doing here."

"I don't have a boyfriend," she said quietly.

"Oh." That's all he could come up with as a response. Killian shouldn't be happy that this sick woman didn't have a boyfriend, but there was some kind of warm feeling inside. She was a gorgeous, strong, vivacious sick woman who didn't have a boyfriend. That wasn't a bad thing.

"You don't have to stay here with me, you know?"

"Hm?" he asked.

Emma looked up at him and smiled. "I said, you don't have to stay here with me. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"Oh, I know you can." She gave Killian a suspicious look. "It's just, I assume your job isn't all that easy and I have noticed a black eye or two when you come in after a long night out. So, you know, there's a reason I try to avoid your bad side," he said with a smirk.

She just smiled and stared down at her hands. For as much as she was a tough woman, Killian couldn't help but think she looked small under her big blanket with her box of Kleenex.

"How about I make us some grilled cheese sandwiches and then I'll go home," he explained. "You know, unless you want me to leave now."

She looked up at him and smiled. "No, grilled cheese sounds good."

"How noble of you," he said sarcastically.

And yet, he was happy as he busied himself in the kitchen, cutting the challah bread - "Do you like your bread thin or thick?" - and laying on the slices of cheddar. He was keenly aware of Emma watching him from the couch despite the fact that she still had the television on behind her.

"I don't want any tomato soup though," she called out to him. "I've had way too many liquids for one day."

"That's not a bad thing when you're sick," he chided as he plated the sandwiches.

Killian grabbed their plates and carried them back to the couch along with two glasses of orange juice.

"Weird combination," Emma said as she took the plate from him.

He just shrugged. "It has vitamin C."

She took a bite of her sandwich and audibly moaned in a way that made Killian thankful he had a plate in his lap. The thought of her moaning like that because of things he could do to her… Nope. Grilled cheese sandwich. Bread. Cheese. Cat!

Thankfully, Princess had decided to jump up next to him at that exact moment, giving him a chance to focus on her instead of Emma and her eating.

"So," he said finally. "One more Black Sails?"

"Definitely!"

She took another bite, the cheese oozing out the side.

Nope! Remote control. Buttons. Oh, it glows in the dark. Killian finally had his wits about him again to pull up the next episode and eat his dinner next to disheveled and sick and gorgeous Emma.

And sometime after the sandwiches and two more episodes of the show, Killian realized that Emma had fallen asleep on the couch, her feet draped across his lap. He had been absentmindedly massaging them for the last half hour, which is probably what finally did her in. Well, that and the NyQuil.

Killian looked over at her and smiled. She had seemed so uncomfortable earlier in the day between the cold and the fact that he was in her apartment trying to help her out. But now she seemed soft and serene - and still uncomfortable. Her neck was curved at an odd angle against the arm of the couch and she had scrunched herself into the seat. She was going to wake up in pain in a few hours and not from the cold.

He stared at her, trying to decide what to do. This wasn't his house. He should just give her an extra pillow and go home. Waking her up to get her in bed after she finally felt relaxed enough to go to sleep would be cruel punishment for someone who was battling her cough and runny nose.

Killian sighed. She was just going to have to let him be a gentleman. He gently pulled the blanket off of her, avoiding the parts that were covered in snot and whatever germs she had coughed on it. Then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to her bedroom. Laying her down on the bed was fine and he should've just left. But no, he was over thinking all of this now. So instead of leaving, he checked to see if she was at least somewhat decent under her grungy dirty shirt and, after confirming she was wearing a bra, he slipped the shirt over her head. Then he slid her sweatpants down her legs, making sure he averted his eyes from whatever underwear she had on. It was grey. Whatever. He didn't want more than a glimpse - at least not with her in this condition. Then he quickly pulled the covers up over her and walked out quietly.

Padding back into the living room, he saw Princess curled up on the discarded blanket.

"Love, I have to take that with me," he said, scooping her up off of it and carrying her into Emma's bedroom. "Go give your mother a snuggle."

He gave the cat one last satisfying scratch behind her ears and gently put her on Emma's bed where Princess proceeded to curl up on the pillow next to Emma and put her head down, closing her eyes as well.

Damn, the two of them were cute together.

But Killian had no time to linger. He still had things to do. He made sure all the food was put away and the dishes were done. Then he grabbed the keys, his phone and Emma's dirty laundry. After a quick stop off at his place for quarters, he headed down to the building's basement and waited for Emma's blanket and clothes to get clean while he checked his phone. Two of his friends had sent him texts asking if he wanted to go out for a drink. But frankly, he was much happier in the laundry room cleaning Emma's stuff.


	5. Chapter 5

Killian figured that Emma would be up by 9:30 in the morning even with the NyQuil she took the night before. He grabbed two reusable shopping bags and put Emma's clean clothes in one of them. The second one he filled up with eggs and veggies. After years of waking up next to random women, he had perfected the art of making an omelette - and then not calling them back.

Emma wasn't one of those women.

There was already something about her that had ahold of him. But yesterday, there was just something more. He never would've gone shopping for even a girlfriend the way he went shopping for Emma yesterday. He never would've spent his Saturday night cleaning a woman's clothes. And yet somehow, he didn't think twice about doing it for Emma.

Killian headed over to her place with her keys in his pocket just in case. He knew better than to simply invite himself in. But a knock on her door got no response - except for a black paw that started poking out from underneath

Killian smiled and slipped his key into the lock.

"Hey, Princess." He rubbed behind her ears. "Emma, it's Killian!"

Still no response so decided it would perhaps be safe to head in, keeping an eye out for Emma and her baseball bat from around a corner. Princess meowed next to him and started to rub against his leg.

"Is someone not paying attention to you?" he asked as he picked her up and snuggled her next to his chest.

Noticing her bowl on the floor was empty, he opened up the cupboard to get some food for her and decided to skip the milk and just give her some water today.

"There you go, love," he said as she rubbed her cheek against his hand with affection.

"Where are my clothes?"

Killian stopped and looked up to see Emma, dressed in a pink fluffy robe with her hands on her hips.

"Good morning, lass." He stood up and crossed his arms as he tried his best not to smile at her adorable attire. "I hope you slept well last night."

"Where are my clothes?"

"Right." He reached into the bag and pulled out her sweatpants and t-shirt. "These are for you. I hope you find them up to your usual standards."

She eyed him skeptically before slowing taking the clothes from him. "Usual standards?"

"I washed them for you," he explained.

Her eyes looked down at the clothes in her hand and then back up at him. "You washed them?"

"Yep," he said matter-of-factly. "And your blanket too."

Emma's eyes narrowed. "So we didn't sleep together?"

His arms went slack. His mouth too. "No," he said quietly.

"So how did I wake up in my underwear?"

"Uh, you were sick so I took your clothes off and washed them," he stammered.

"Oh, right. Of course," she said dismissively.

"Are you upset with me for some reason?"

She shook her head. "No."

Killian looked at her, trying to figure out what was going on. "Are you mad we didn't sleep together?"

"No!" she yelled. "No. I mean, the NyQuil totally knocked me out and I'm sure you wouldn't take advantage of the situation-"

"I wouldn't."

"- but I just woke up and you were in my kitchen and I was in my underwear." She paused and took a breath. "And I'm sick."

Killian relaxed a bit and he walked over to Emma, putting his hand on her shoulder to turn her back to where she came from. "Why don't you go take a shower and put on your clean clothes, and I'll make some omelettes."

"Omelettes?" she replied quietly.

"Unless you want something else," he said as he headed for his bag of groceries. "I can make scrambled eggs or toast if you have a toaster."

"Omelettes are good," Emma said quietly and disappeared into her bathroom, slowly closing the door behind her.

Killian started going through her drawers. After last night, he remembered where her cutting board and knives were, and set about cutting up the veggies while he got a pan warm for the eggs. He was thankful he had brought over something that required him to pay some attention to make it. Because in that quiet moment as he waited for the eggs to cook, all he could think about was Emma's reaction to whether they had slept together. There was no way he was going to have sex with her in the state she was in last night, but he had entertained the idea of sleeping with her at some point in the future. Her warm body below him, her soft skin under his fingers. Waking up next to her so he could make her an omelette in the morning.

"Hey."

He almost jumped with the spatula in his hand as Emma surprised him. Turning, he saw her standing next to him, her clean clothes on and her wet hair pulled back in a pony tail. "You feel better?" he asked as he went back to making breakfast.

"Yeah, thank you."

Without looking back at her, he grabbed some cheddar from the counter and put it in the pan before folding over the eggs. "This is almost done. Why don't you grab your blanket from that bag and I'll bring it over to you?"

He heard her walk away from him, too afraid to watch her go. But the dark ball of fluff on the floor caught his attention as Princess followed her owner.

He filled up her kettle with water and turned up the heat on the stove. Omelettes done, he grabbed two forks and headed over to the couch.

"Here you go."

He handed the plate and fork to Emma, who took it wordlessly from his hand and placed both gently on the coffee table. And then she just stared at them.

"Um, is there something wrong?"

"You made me an omelette."

Killian shrugged. "I hope that was OK." She just continued to stare at the eggs. "Emma, did I do something wrong? I mean, if I overstepped here, please tell me."

She finally looked up. "No one has ever cleaned by clothes or my blanket after I've covered them in germs. No one's ever made me an omelette," she said. "So why did you do it?"

He gave her a lopsided smile. "It was the right thing to do."

Emma nodded and looked back at the plate on the table. "I don't have any family, you know. I grew up in the foster system."

Suddenly, Emma's toughness and independence made sense to Killian. "I didn't know that," he said quietly.

"And I don't like asking my friends for help."

"Oh, that I do know."

She smiled. "It didn't seem to be an issue for you."

"Emma," he said taking her hand. "I didn't even know you had a cat until two weeks ago. But from the moment I met you, I could tell you were tough and strong and stubborn. When my parents left my brother and I, we had to do the same thing." He shrugged. "I guess I know what it's like to be alone, and just wanted to help out."

She gave him a tight smile and squeezed his hand. "Thank you." Emma let go and leaned forward, picking her plate up off the table. Killian watched her take a bite and was rewarded with that contented moan she made whenever she ate something she enjoyed.

"So you like it?" he asked as he grabbed his own plate.

"Yes," she replied. "You know, you don't have to stay with me. I'm sure you have some woman to entertain at your place."

He smiled and took a bite of his handiwork. "There's no woman at my place."

Emma gave him a skeptical look. "You really spent a Saturday night alone?"

"Yep," he said with his mouth full of eggs. "Just me and the wash machine cleaning your stuff."

"I didn't expect that from the prolific Killian Jones."

His fork paused in the air. Is that what she thought of him? To be fair, he couldn't blame her considering the women she had probably noticed leaving his place, even the ones he didn't notice she had seen. But it had been months since he had brought a woman back to his place, ever since he actually paid attention to the look on Emma's face that last time.

"I've been trying to change my ways lately," he muttered.

Her tone matched his when she finally replied to him. "Why is that?"

He shrugged. "Just because."

The whistle from the kettle on the stove top started to sound, breaking the tension that seemed to be brewing between them, and Killian was thankful for the distraction as he hurried in to make two cups of tea for them. He knew what the answer to question was. He knew he had changed because of her. He just figured that actually telling her that would freak her out. Hell, actually putting it into words may freak him out as well. Better to just keep quiet for now for both of their sakes.

Emma was still digging into her omelette when he got back and set the two mugs on the table.

"So, we've established that you make amazing omelettes and my cat likes you," she said as he grabbed her tea from the table.

"Have we also established that I'm dashingly handsome?" Killian said.

Emma rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. "Anyway, the real question is, can you be a pirate for another few hours?"

"What am I pillaging and plundering?" he asked flirtatiously.

She picked up the remote from her couch. "My television. Namely more Black Sails."

"Well, that wasn't the answer I was hoping for, but it'll do."

Emma let out an exasperated sigh, dropped the remote dramatically on her lap and stared at him. "Are you seriously flirting with me?" she asked. "Because I'm sick and I look like crap and no man in their right mind would flirt with me right now."

"Lass, any man with eyes can see your beauty no matter how sick you feel." He took another bite of his omelette, keeping his eyes firmly on her as she stared back at him. "And frankly, if I didn't have two major presentations at work tomorrow that I need to be healthy for, I would be kissing the bloody hell out of you right now."

Her lips parted in shock and Killian noticed her cheeks get red. Had he actually finally shocked Emma Swan? And why the hell was he even telling her the truth? This was not like him at all. It was too early and he was too content with his omelette. That was all it was. He got cocky and started actually saying words that expressed his emotions. Although he never did that with any other woman before. Ever.

He turned and stared down at his plate. Maybe he had finally pushed too far.

Killian smiled nervously at his eggs. "Perhaps that was too much," he said. "I should get going."

"No." Emma grabbed his arm to physically keep him in place. He looked at her fingers and then up at her in surprise. Realizing what she had done, she slipped her hand off his body and put it back in her lap. "I mean, you can stay. Unless you want to go."

"I would like to stay."

She looked at him with her big green eyes and gave him a quiet nod in approval. "So," she said, clearing her throat loudly. "Black Sails then?"

"Black Sails."


	6. Chapter 6

Killian hated feeling this way. But to be fair, it was his own fault.

He was the one who thought it would be a nice gesture to help out a sick friend. He was the one who had a soft spot for Emma, especially when he found her standing in her apartment with her disheveled hair and blanket.

Now he was sick. On his couch, under a blanket covered in his own germs, watching some crap television show because while he wanted to watch more episodes of Black Sails, he was waiting until he could see them with Emma.

Emma Swan, the bail bonds woman who had sent him only a handful of texts over the past four days. Killian had been swamped at work with a major project and he celebrated by going out with his co-workers - and waking up the next day with whatever sickness he picked up from Emma's apartment. Meanwhile, Emma had rebounded and was making up for her sick days by trying to reel in a bail jumper. Killian was planning to go out with her tomorrow night.

 _I'm taking you on a real Friday night date_ , he had texted her.

 _What if I say no? ;)_

Killian had smiled when he got Emma's text. _Then I'll just take Princess instead._

 _She has plans that night so your only choice is me._

 _Darn._

And now, neither the gorgeous woman nor the cat were an option. There was no way Killian would be able to pull himself together in time for a Friday night out. He could only hope that Emma would show him some mercy, especially considering it was her fault he was like this.

Killian reluctantly pulled himself off the couch and headed for the kitchen to see if there was anything he could put together for dinner. But nope, nothing that was good for someone who was sick. He audibly sighed and started digging through his drawer of take-out menus, hoping one of them would sound appealing despite feeling like his head had been run over by a truck.

 _Knock knock._

He groaned. There was no way the person on the other side of that door would want to talk to him. Better to just stay quiet and hope they would go away.

"Killian?"

Dammit. Emma. Well, he saw her when she was sick at her place. He shouldn't be so self conscious to have her see him like this. Besides, better for her to see him like this than to think he was blowing her off.

He opened the door to find her standing in four-inch heels and a gorgeous tight red dress that accentuated her curves. Her blonde hair was cascading in curls off her shoulders to show off her beautiful smile.

"Well, surprise, surprise. Sometimes you do answer the door with a shirt on," she said teasingly.

"Sometimes," he replied quietly.

And then she started talking and he couldn't understand a word she was saying, his mind able to only focus on one task as a time and right now that task was admiring her amazing dress. He wasn't sure what kind of fabric it was, but it was definitely red. It showed off some cleavage - not alot but enough of a hint of it. And then his focus was back on her hair, looking so silky and smooth and he could just reach out and touch it a little…

"Killian."

He snapped out of his daze and looked at Emma's green eyes. "Sorry?"

"You were staring. Badly."

He gave her a sheepish grin and took a tentative step back from the doorway. "You just…" His brain was too fuzzy to process thoughts and how to play this cool. "You just look stunning."

Her stern gaze softened towards him. "Well, thank you," she said as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "So does that mean you're up for a drink then?"

He shook his head a bit to clear the fog collecting in his brain. "A drink?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Like I said, dressed up to catch a bad guy, caught him before I could even get a drink, don't want to waste all this work for nothing so c'mon. We're going out."

Killian closed his eyes in defeat. "I can't."

"Why can't you?" she asked incredulously.

He looked at her and gave her a sad lopsided smile. "I'm sick."

Emma's shoulders slumped. "Oh, Killian," she said sadly. "This is my fault, isn't it?"

"Not your fault." He shook his head. "I decided to help you out fully knowing the risks. It's OK."

Emma put one hand on the doorjamb to keep herself steady as she used the other to take off her shoes in the hallway. "So if we're not going out, I'm assuming you want some company."

"It's OK," he said. "You don't have to entertain me. Go get a drink and enjoy your quiet night." He gave her a tight smile. "I'm just going to get some food and some sleep so I can take you out on that date at some point."

"But not tomorrow," she teased.

"No, probably not," he said.

Emma shrugged and smiled at him. "Alright, well, you know where I live if you need something."

"I'll let you know," he said. "Thanks."

She gave him a nod and headed for her apartment as he quietly closed the door.

Of all the nights for a beautiful woman to knock on his door, it had to be that woman looking like that. Sure, he could've pushed through. He could've rallied perhaps. But he would've been the worst date and turned Emma off for good. Better to just take the loss and try to get better so he'd be ready for another night.

Killian dragged himself from the door back to the counter where he resumed sorting through his stash of delivery menus. Lots of Chinese food, a few Italian places, that Mexican restaurant two blocks away. It all sounded so…gross. There were nights when he would just pick from the pile because he was too indecisive about what he wanted. Now, he was too indecisive about what he didn't want. Instead, he put his head down, the coolness of the counter against his forehead. Oh, that felt good.

He was pretty sure he fell asleep standing up with his head on the counter because he didn't remember much time passing before he snapped up at the sound of knocking on his door. He gripped the counter to stop the apartment from spinning a bit and then went back to the annoying sound from whoever was on the other side of his door.

It was Emma. Again. Only this time she was wearing black yoga pants and her bulky grey sweatshirt, and had two reusable grocery bags with her.

"Hey," she said quietly. "You didn't order any food yet, did you?"

Killian slowly shook his head. "I didn't like any of my options."

She smiled and pushed her way past him into the apartment. "Good," she said as he followed her to the kitchen. "I have a few things for you then."

"You didn't have to bring anything over," he muttered.

She looked up and gave him her normal radiant smile. "I didn't have to, but I wanted to, especially after what you did for me."

Emma started pulling items out of the bag on his counter. A half-full container of the chicken soup he bought for her a few days ago, some leftover challah bread and cheddar cheese.

"You've been drinking tea today, haven't you?" she asked.

Killian shook his head. "No, I couldn't find any in my cupboard."

Emma put two boxes of tea on the counter. "Probably because you spent your tea budget on me," she said. "I'm sure you can guess there are two kinds - Earl Grey and chamomile - since that's what you bought for me this weekend."

He stared at the spread on his counter. Food he bought that Emma had held onto. Food that had soothed her so well. And now she was returning the favor. Killian was a little too overwhelmed by it all to say anything.

And then he noticed the other bag, which looked a bit odd. "Um, I don't...I mean, I'm sick and all, but is that bag moving?"

Emma smiled and stuck both hands in, scooping Princess out from inside. "It's a cat," she said as she walked over to Killian. "I mean, not to eat obviously."

"Obviously."

She held Princess out and let Killian take her from her arms. "Why don't you and Princess go camp out on the couch and I'll be there soon."

Princess purred against his chest and snuggled up under his chin. Killian immediately started to feel better with the cat curling its way closer as he started to do as he was told and wander over to the couch.

"I'm going to make some grilled cheese and reheat this soup, OK?"

"Can I just get the grilled cheese?" Killian asked as he dropped himself on the couch.

"Sure."

He looked back over the couch to see Emma starting to busy herself in his kitchen. "Emma?"

"Hm?" she said, turning to look at him.

"Thank you."

She gave him a warm smile and turned back to digging her way through his kitchen. Princess, meanwhile, decided to dig her way into more snuggles with Killian, who was happy to oblige as he rubbed the black cat between her ears much to her pleasure. He had to give Emma credit. The cat definitely did seem to be lifting his spirits after he had spent the entire day trying to sleep off whatever illness he had picked up.

Emma came around the couch with two drinks in her hand - a mug and a beer. "Be careful, this is hot," she said as she placed the mug down on the table in front of him.

"No beer for me?"

She took a swig from the bottle and set it down. "Not a chance. I earned that tonight."

"Fair enough," Killian said as he turned his attention back to Princess. "Hey, we have a few more episodes of Black Sails to watch if you want."

"Definitely," she replied. "Let me get dinner finished."

He nodded and watched her walk away, her tight yoga pants giving him a nice view. Dammit, why did he have to be sick? Oh right, this was Emma's fault. At least she felt the need to cook for him, which is how he ended up with a homemade grilled cheese sandwich that was amazing.

Despite the fact that he was under the weather, Killian thought things were pretty good right now. He was curled up on his couch with a warm cat, a beautiful woman at the other end, a pirate show on television, and a well fed stomach. He liked this. This was comfortable. And now that the cold medicine was kicking in, he closed his eyes for just a minute and settled under his blanket.

And woke up two hours later.

"Killian?"

There was a woman standing next to him, gently whispering his name.

"Killian?"

Her hand was on his shoulder, soft and warm but firm, and the air was filled with the scent of vanilla.

"Killian?"

"Hmmm?" he hummed quietly.

"Let's get you to bed before I go, OK?"

Killian nodded and took a deep breath as he sat up. The blanket he had been sleeping under was gently pulled away and he stood up, putting his arm around the woman's shoulders.

"Wow, you really got knocked on your ass by this cold, didn't you?"

"I was comfortable," he mumbled.

"I could tell."

His brain woke up enough to finally register that the woman walking with him was Emma, and she was taking him back to his bedroom. His head started to spin - was the floor clean? Dirty underwear in the hamper? But then he realized he was so tired he didn't even care. Let her see him at his worst. If it didn't scare her away, nothing would.

"You OK?"

"Uh huh," he muttered.

"OK, sit down here on the bed."

He did as she instructed and could feel the bed move as she pulled the sheets down and fluffed his pillow.

"How long have you been wearing these clothes?"

Killian shrugged. "A day or two."

He could hear Emma sigh before she started rummaging around in his drawers. "Where are some clean sweatpants?"

"Bottom drawer," he answered as he lazily pulled his shirt over his head.

Oh crap, he just took his shirt off in front of Emma. In his bedroom. He hoped she didn't get the wrong impression. He wanted to sleep with her, of course, but he was not up for it in this condition.

"Don't worry, I won't."

"You won't what?" he said, slowing looking over at her.

"You said you didn't want me to get the wrong impression."

He squinted his eyes in her direction. "I said that out loud?"

"Oh boy," Emma said sweetly. "Here, let me get this new shirt on you."

She gently pulled a clean shirt over his head and helped him get his arms in the sleeves. Then she slowly lowered him down on his pillow. "I'm going to get some new sweat pants on you, OK?"

He nodded and let her pull his grungy pants off of him and put a clean pair on. "Am I wearing my nice underwear or my gross underwear?"

"I didn't check, buddy." Emma grabbed the blanket and pulled it up over him. "Is that better?"

He nodded and rolled on to his side, snuggling himself down into the bed.

He could feel Emma's weight on the mattress as she sat down next to him, brushing his hair off of his feverish forehead. "I put a glass of water on the night stand right next to you and left the bathroom light on in case you wake up."

Killian pulled an arm out of his blanket and laid it on top of Emma's thigh. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Killian."

As he drifted off to sleep, he could've swore she kissed his forehead before finally leaving for the night.

xxx xxx xxx

Three days later, Killian found himself walking a woman to her place after one of the most amazing dates he had ever been on.

"So this is you," he said as he stopped in front of Emma's door.

"This is me."

He pulled her hand closer to his chest. "I had a really great time tonight."

"So do you want to come in?" she asked hesitantly.

"Perhaps another night, love," he said quietly. "I'm trying to be a gentleman and this is only our first date after all."

"It's our third actually."

Killian dropped her hand and stared at her. "Our third? How do you figure?"

She gave him a sweet smile. "Well, our first was when you brought me dinner when I was sick."

"I was just trying to take care of you."

"And the second," she said without acknowledging his comment, "was when I made dinner for you."

"I was sick."

"Oh! And I forgot the omelettes!" she exclaimed. "So that's two dinners and brunch, which makes this our fourth date."

Killian eyes narrowed as he looked at her. "So this is our fourth date and I still haven't kissed you?"

Emma teasingly turned away from him and started to unlock her apartment door. "Yea, and that's kind of a bummer."

She pushed the door open and stood next to it, waiting for him to follow her. Killian was trying to act like a gentleman tonight, but Emma seemed to want him to be not that way. He wasn't about to tell this gorgeous woman she couldn't get what she wanted.

He closed the door behind them, pinning her against the wall as he finally kissed her, her lips just as soft and warm as he expected, the moan from her mouth even better than he imagined. She knew exactly where to touch him, the palms of her hands resting on his chest as he leaned closer and deepened the kiss with her.

"Meow."

Emma began to laugh against his lips, and he couldn't help but do the same as he felt a black cat rub up against his leg.

"Princess, you're interrupting my moment," Killian said as he stared down at the feline at his feet.

Emma giggled some more, her hands slowly pulling away from his chest. "I think the cat doesn't like sharing you with someone else." She smiled down at the cat. "Maybe Killian can get you some milk."

"Meow."

"I thought that would make you happy." She looked back up at Killian, her eyes slightly darker. "And I'll be in my bedroom waiting for you?"

"I hope so," Killian said earnestly.

He watched Emma saunter away on her three-inch heels. He had a wonderful time with her this evening, and he didn't just enjoy the night because of what his date looked like. He enjoyed it for so much more. But damn, what she looked like was pretty amazing when it was wrapped up in the red dress and those high heels.

But he had another responsibility before he could see more of that.

"Now, you listen to me, Princess," he said as he made his way to the fridge. "I'll get you some milk, but you're going to cooperate with me, got it?"

Princess rubbed her head against Killian's leg in agreement.

"Good." He poured the milk in a bowl and set it down on the floor with Princess. "You stay here."

The cat meowed in agreement before starting to drink its milk with no care about why he was leaving her and where he going, which was fine with Killian. He liked Princess, he really did, but at that moment, there was another woman he would much rather be with - a bail bonds woman who smelled like vanilla, looked damn good in a red dress, and always got her man.

 _Thanks for all your support for this story! You guys are the best! If you like my writing, you can check out my progress as I hopefully get some original fiction published soon. Follow me on Twitter at jennyredford or tumblr at jennyredford._


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